


Transcending

by DeathIsOverrated



Category: Night at the Museum (2006 2009)
Genre: Ahk's backstory, Ancient History, But Not Much, Childhood, F/M, M/M, POV First Person, Roman occupation, Sorry Not Sorry, big brother!Kah, depressed!Ahk, hunnic invasion, i just had the brother feels ok?, kid!Ahk, light jedtavius, some of it is Kah's pov, this has lots of feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 15:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3733666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathIsOverrated/pseuds/DeathIsOverrated
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are so many things that I never knew. Secrets kept from me. Lies, told to my face. But there was so much I experienced. Things most people never even dreamed of.</p>
<p>This is my story. The story of King Ahkmunrah, the pharaoh that transcends time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transcending

**Author's Note:**

> I have all the Ahk feels, ok?? Don't hate me for any feels you may have.

I was born at midnight on the longest night of the year. Many would celebrate a birth during such an auspicious moment, as my parents very well did. But looking back on this now, with new knowledge of old times, I consider it to be an omen. Midnight is a time when the pathway between this world and the next is the thinnest, when evil crawls through using barely a whisper of power. What luck is there to be found when your child is born in the midst of a sprawling evil darkness?

But my parents would not be swayed from their overwhelming joy. They took the light of the full moon's rays to be a blessing from Khonsu, the clarity of the stars to be the protective arms of Nut, the still-swollen banks of the Nile to be Hapi's gift. I was the heir to the throne of the entire Egyptian Empire, and I had been blessed by the gods. No, not blessed. I was a gift from the gods, I was a god in the form of a babe.

I was cursed.

The earliest memory I have is of myself and Kahmunrah, my elder by only three years, swimming in the shallow banks of the Nile during summer. We were not alone, but we might as well have been. We were the pharaoh's sons, not common children. I didn't understand this at the time. I remember asking Kah why we couldn't play why the other children as we climbed out of the river, the hot sand burning our feet.

"They aren't like us, brother," he said. "They are common. Father says they must respect us, not play with us."

"But why?"

"Aw, I don't know, Ahkmen. Whenever we're pharaohs we can play with whoever we want! It'll be great."

"Really?"

"Of course! It'll be the best, because then I won't be stuck with you all the time, Moon Eyes." He laughed and began running back towards our home. "Come on, Ahkmen! I'll teach you to play Senet, like Father's been showing me!" We ran back to the house, letting the wind and the sun dry us off.

My brother was my idol. Kah seemed to know so much more than I did, his extra years giving him the advantage to my meager three years of life. To me he shone like the sun. Kahmunrah was my best friend. My happiest memories are of my brother, and nothing that happened will ever change that. We were friends and brothers, but we wouldn't stay that way.

Half way through his sixth year, Kah began following my father, learning the ways of a pharaoh. He may have been the son of my father's second wife, but he was still the son of a pharaoh. The longer he stayed with my father, learning how to be a king, the less time he had for me. All of a sudden I was alone, well and truly this time. It was something I adapted to over the years.

Kahmunrah, while barely sparing any time to play anymore, still treated me the way about older brother would. He would send empty taunts and teasings in passing, a smile in his voice and eyes despite his blank face. At nights, when he was not expected to be regal and when we were both expected to be sleeping, he regail me with tales; some he created, some were the legends of the gods, some were humorous, and some were sad. The one that is most prominent in my mind is one that he had told me ever since he could talk.

"Do you know the story of your eyes, Ahkmen?" he would ask, late in the night with silver light pouring through the open window into our room 

"No." I did.

"There was too much silver in the land when you were born," he started. "All the stars were out, the moon was at its brightest. The Nile looked like liquid silver, and the desert too. It wasn't right." He shook his head gravely. "Nay, it wasn't. And Khonsu, well you know how vain he is. He is the moon, and the moon must always be the brightest thing in the night. Well with all this silver around, the moon was just a bland disk. So Khonsu, being jealous as he is, gathered up all the extra silver from the river and the land."

"What did he do, Kah?"

"Well, when he had the silver, he realized he had nothing to do with it. There was no more room for it in the moon. So he threw it down, just as your mother gave birth to you.

"Now, you were an ugly child, Ahkmen. Truly, even the crocodiles would not have wanted to eat you."

"Kaaahhhh," I would whine, draping myself over his shoulders and shaking him to continue the story.

"It's true," he would say, grinning. "You were hideous. But when the silver that Khonsu threw out hit you, you weren't ugly anymore." A teasing pause on his part. "Well, you weren't as ugly as you were before. But the biggest thing that changed were your eyes."

"What happened to them, Kah?" I would ask in wide-eyed amazement, even though this part of the story never changed.

"They started to glow, and when you opened them, they were like two little moons, filled with the silver that Khonsu threw away."

"Then what, Kah? Tell the next part!" He laughed shoving me off from where I had tackled him.

"Well, Moon Eyes," he said, using the nickname he had given me from this story, "your silver was from the gods. It'll glow forever, probably even after you die. The silver is immortal, so that's why Father named you Ahkmenrah; the 'Ahk' is the immortal part of the soul."

"Am I immortal?" Kah laughed when I asked this one time.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're immortal, Ahkmen." We were nigh tired at this point, settling back under our woven blankets.

"And you're immortal, too, right Kah? You have to be immortal with me, so we can always be brothers."

"Of course we'll always be brothers," he scoffed behind a yawn. "Someone has to show you how to do everything. Now go to sleep, Moon Eyes." He turned away from me at this point, and was soon asleep. I followed quickly after, happy with the thoughts of always being with my brother.

I was five during this particular telling, and he eight. It was shortly after this that I began my training, and things with Kah and myself began going south.

I was twelve when I first found out about the golden tablet, when I was told (lied to) about its purpose. It was attached to a stone slab that would later be known as the Gate of Kahmunrah. Kah and I were both told that it was a gateway to the underworld that could only be opened with the tablet (my tablet). It was to be used only in times when the land was in great peril. The gate's true purpose had been hidden from us as well, I later found.

I was fifteen when Kah started to truly dislike me. He was eighteen, a fully trained warrior and capable of becoming pharaoh, should the need arise. Thus my father's attention to his children was focused mainly on myself. Kah was pushed to the back of my father's thoughts, for my father was not worried about the kind of ruler he would become. If only Kahmunrah knew this.

I was eighteen when he began to hate me. His laughing eyes turned cold and hard when pointed towards me; he became stiff and formal, so unlike the brother I knew. I was walking past the throne room one night when I heard his voice, along with that of my father's. They were arguing. I hid myself, listening through the door.

"It is not your decision, Kahmunrah." My father's voice echoed loudly.

"It is not right, Father! Ahkmen is not meant to rule." There was a desperate tone in Kah's voice, one I had not heard before. There was something else there I couldn't identify.

"Ahkmenrah is the heir to my lands, future king of Egypt and of yourself. You would do well to remember that."

"He has not the heart to rule an empire! To rule would crush him!"

"And I suppose you wish to be heir in his pace?"A pause, short silence. "For what cause, Kahmunrah? Are you truly that greedy a man?"

"You do not see that there is no greed in my plea. I am simply…" Kah became too quiet for me to hear what he said. My father's reply was quick, however.

"You would need ten times the worth of Ahkmenrah's heart to be half the man he is now."

"The only heart I need is my own, however, to be thrice the man that you are." My brother's response was full of the conviction of a man who knew he was right.

"You will never rule before your brother. No matter your reasons, it will never happen."

"You wish to know my reasons, Father?"

"Speak your peace and leave." Kah's reply was too soft for me to hear, just a dim murmur through the walls. I quickly began to leave, but the door opened before I was fully out of sight. I turned slowly, expecting an enraged Kahmunrah to be glaring at me. What I found was worse. His shoulders sagged in defeat, and his eyes were soft and tired, filled with some emotion I couldn't begin to name.

 

"It's late, Moon Eyes," He said quietly, a sad smile playing at his lips. "You should go to bed." I nodded and left, utterly confused.

That was the last time he ever called me Moon Eyes.

I was twenty when I married. It was an arranged marriage to a cousin I had never met. My first glimpse of her was at the ceremony. She was young, perhaps fifteen, with smooth skin, shiny black hair, and emerald eyes; her name was Mherketis. I held no love for this woman. To me she was simply a formality, a rite of passage.

I was twenty when my father died. Our physicians, priests, magicians had no answers. Some believed he was being punished for some deed. Nobody understood what had happened. No one knew how he died (it was what would later be called an aneurysm in his brain).

I was twenty when I became pharaoh. I was not ready for the position, mentally or emotionally. My father had just died, was not even a month in his tomb (underground; the only thing above the sand was the entry). I was not prepared to rule an empire with a new wife, a mourning mother, and a spiteful brother all within throwing distance of me at all times. Despite this, I was willing to step up, to fill my father's shoes, to make him proud of me. Kah had different ideas.

I was in the throne room, empty but for myself and the throne. I stood there, staring at it, willing myself to accept its challenge, willing myself to sit. The crown felt heavy and uncomfortable on my head; it was not made for me, as my regular one was. The robes that now hung off my sholders, old to all but me, weighted me down. The jewels around my neck were heavy. The kohl around my eyes was thick, like blinking through mud. The door opened, creaking loudly in the silence. I turned around as Kah drew near, knowing what he would want.

"Please, brother. I beg you, step down." His pleaded case was not a new one, not even during my short reign as pharaoh.

 

"I will not, Kah. You know that. Father expects me to be a great leader, and so I shall."

"You have no idea what Father wanted," Kah spat, angered suddenly. "He didn't care about you, Ahkmen. Not when it came to the throne."

"And you would wish to take the throne yourself?" I said coolly, echoing the words of my father. It seemed to only make him angrier.

"This is not about me!"

"Of course it is, Kah! All I'm doing is what Father wanted."

"Think for yourself for once, Ahkmen! Even in death that man orders you around."

"Don't shame him, Kah," I said, stepping closer.

"Why do you worship that man? He is not great!" he yelled, pushing me back. I stumbled, my foot catching on the edge of my robe. Things moved slowly; I felt the hard floor rushing to meet me, saw the shock on Kah's face, his hand reaching for me, too slow, as my head hit the floor-

I was twenty when- When I-

Died.

**Author's Note:**

> For random Rami spam, follow my instagram: @snafu.da.pharaoh


End file.
